sister Evangelina. Shaddock had arranged the transport for them and for our people still stranded in the city, a dozen snowmobiles roaring up and depositing riders and passengers.
I felt the weight of worry fall off my shoulders as Eli trudged into the house, taking in the new inhabitants. He mumbled something about Janie’s bizarro battalions and needing a shower and a power nap. He lifted a thumb to me in passing and went to his suite.
My honeybunch dismounted, followed Eli in, and slid in behind me at the window, wrapping me in his arms. He kissed the top of my head, his Onorio scent heated and his hands steady, no longer shaking with weakness. At his touch, all my tormenting energies melted away and I realized I had been worried, edgy, until all my people were back. “You get some vampire blood?” I asked, sighing, resting back against him.
“Those sips from Shaddock last night, love, had a delayed reaction. I began to feel better within an hour and I’m well enough for now. We found inflatable mattresses in the church and slept quite well until we were rescued.” He nuzzled my hair. “I’ve been offered the blood of Thema or Kojo when they rise at dusk. I’ll be fine until I can drink from them. What are they doing?” he asked of the people in the snow.
“I have no idea. Apparently I am not to be told war plans until after the fact.”
“Ah.” His lips smiled against my hair. “The onerous job of the queen. Waiting.”
I grunted.
The Everhart sisters and some of Shaddock’s humans had finally started work with a set of trenching shovels and snowmobiles, racing around the inn and the cottages, tracing and digging a narrow trench around the property, the engines loud enough to wake the undead, and their voices complaining loudly that the humans always got the hard-labor jobs while the witches and vamps always got the sexy jobs. By listening silently, standing in the shadows, we learned that the trench was part of the Everhart-Trueblood defense of the inn. It was going to be the biggest hedge of thorns they had ever made. Bigger than I had ever heard was even possible. In spite of their grumbles, the workers were energetic and laughing.
“I rested well for a few hours, but I think I’ll take a nap,” Bruiser said. “Tonight may be long and miserable.”
“Or the snow might get worse and nothing might happen.”
He kissed the top of my head again. “We can always hope.” Bruiser left me at the window and trudged up the stairs, like Eli, looking for a power nap before nightfall.
CHAPTER 12
Something with Fins. Or Wings.
“Are you sure about this, Janie?” Eli asked through the windshield.
I/we nodded. Eli had put chains on the tires of an SUV, loaded in enough weapons to take over Asheville, and gassed up at one of the few places that had electricity this soon after the snow and sleet, and this far out of town. We had headed west, toward the area where Beast and I had seen the bright lights, not talking, but listening to Cia’s boyfriend on his latest album. Cia was dating country singer Ray Conyers, who had a voice so smooth and perfect and full of sexual passion that it had to come from the devil. Seductive and able to slide into roughness that felt sexual and intense. Made me want to cry in my beer with him, except for the whole “doesn’t have a beer” thing.
When we ran out of scraped roads and new songs and only fresh snow lay before us, piled up in drifts on what might still be a road (but there were doubts), Eli pulled over. I said, “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”
Eli gave a soft hmmm of sound and checked over one of his new toys. It was a high-tech bow that was all angles and strings and round doohickeys.
“I’m not sure what I’ll do when I find it, whatever it is.” Eli gave that soft sound again, unconcerned, letting me talk. “I had to get out of the house or I’d end up fighting Brute to control my anxiety and hyper state. And my people are making plans behind my back.”
“Which is their job, Janie,” he said, setting aside the bow and picking up something that looked like an oversized target pistol. “Let ’em do it.”